She walked off the train:

An oriental doll wearing a short skirt, with cropped jet-black hair, and a determined expression;

Girl, you’re like a Manga Assassin walking off the comic book page;

Immaculate to look upon;

A jaw-dropping dragon tattoo along the entire length of one perfectly proportioned set of pins-

A coiled up serpent, disappearing beneath the fold of her skirt;

Leaving any man salivating for a full showing!

You make me forget my age for a moment,

Forget even that i’ve got a girl,

Returning me to a lust-struck teenager of yesteryear;

Throwing caution to the wind in abandonment,

Chasing tail;

Celebrating every success with glee-filled shuffle,

Taking all the put downs on the chin,

Living for the moment,

A far cry from recent creeping maturity!

However, as she walks off into the distance,

Being feverishly tailed by the memory of the boy that I was;

Forgetting the 9,999 reasons why he has no chance,

Naively hoping to make the luscious red lips of this object of affection, break out into a pearly white smile;

The man that I am, turns to the girl alongside (undoubtedly following the antics befalling within my line of sight with amusement):

‘Sweety, if I thought you had a chance… I’d let you’, she said with a mock sympathetic smile;

‘Easily’, I lied, ‘but, one dragon at home is enough’, I said while netting  my fingers through hers,

‘You better believe it’, she replied, returning a squeeze of the hand;

And, my wife and I continued on our journey home.